Smoke and Mirrors
by TakeMeToWonderlandx
Summary: Loki had made more than one alliance. Can a god align with kirklees of hell? On HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This starts before the Avengers movie plot, but will eventually make its way. Enjoy the preview and let me know what you think.

Silence. Perpetual, deafening silence. A light sneeze breaks the silence. Birds scatter, dust falls.

"Shit."

_Bamf_.

Smoke and the stench of brimstone. Shadows twist and turn. He shifted position, boots moving silently along the wooden planks. Slight knock of an arrow being aligned, tightening of the bowstring.

"Nat, the target is on the move." Clint heard the audible sigh of his partner. The mission was always more difficult when they wouldn't stop moving.

"It's hard to get a tracker on 'em with this bamfing bullshit." He grunted, moving forward at a slug's pace. Natasha was below him, moving quickly from cover to cover.

"It's also hard to get a tracker on them when you keep talking." Clint smirked in response and shut his mouth. Nat always had a charming way with words. Barton paused when he noticed Nat wasn't moving anymore. She turned her head up and motioned for him to look ahead of her. He saw it. The hunched figure sitting atop a golden statue with its head bowed. Clint paused in mid-stride. Why had it stopped?

Natasha held her hand for him to stand fast and she gently strode forward. The target atop the statue acknowledged her with a lifting of its head, but Clint couldn't make out the face amongst the shadow of its hood. Natasha would try the reasonable approach. Figures. Clint kept his bow ready.

"Have an affinity for Prometheus?" Natasha tread carefully as she spoke, holstering her pistol. The target shifted and Nat braced herself. The sound of what seemed like a chuckle came from the hooded figure, a light feminine sound. It was a woman.

"The titan, forced into bondage by Zeus because he wanted the betterment of mankind. He was meant to sculpt mankind, make them perfect. They were his children, but he was punished for helping them. Zeus was a bastard, wasn't he?" Nat was surprised by the softness and intelligence of the accented voice. This was supposed to be a terrorist and a killer, not some mythology enthusiast. Natasha stopped a few feet away from the statue and took her eyes off the other woman. She observed the statue and twisted her face. It was a rather grotesque statue. Prometheus chained to a rock with birds tearing away at his innards.

"But you're not here to discuss art with me. Your gun tells me that much. Along with the three arrows your friend fired at me. His aim is horrendous for a trained assassin." There was a smirk in the voice and Clint tightened up in the rafters above. How dare this bastard terrorist insult his forte? He sat himself upon the museum's upper rafter, the scope of his bow aimed at the hooded woman's face. Natasha inhaled sharply when the woman upon the statue stood up. The coat did a good job of obstructing the details of their target.

"I wouldn't test that if you want to keep your eyes. We can do this the quiet way or the loud way. It's your call." Natasha hardened her voice, taking her pistol from its holster. The cloaked woman said nothing in response.

_Bamf._

A knee lodged itself into Natasha's gut and a clawed hand batted her gun away with relative ease, but she was prepared. She flipped backward blocked an uppercut, responding with a roundhouse. Another ring of _bamf_ and the target was gone, leaving Natasha in a cloud of red and black smoke. A flurry of punches came from behind her and she struck out with both nimble feet. She choked back a gasp when a red tail, a red **pointy** tail, snaked its way around her ankle. The appendage tightened and tossed her to the side. She recovered with a roll and grabbed her extra pistol, firing off rounds as the cloaked figure advanced. Smoke rose from her silhouette and fire crackled from under her robe.

"Hawkeye, now!"

Clint was still getting over the fact they were fighting a Satan incarnate when he heard Nat yell up to him. Shaking it off, he let loose the arrow he had been holding, and grinned as it made contact. The figure grunted in pain, staggering. But she still stood. Not for much longer, Clint smirked.

_Click. _50,000 volts wracked the teleporter's body, a howl of pain leaving her as she dropped to her knees, her face promptly hitting the ground. Spasms shuddered through the prone body, but she didn't teleport away. Not that she could anyway. Natasha could finally breathe now that the smoke cleared. Clint dropped down next to her, his bow strung over his shoulder.

"I just have to ask, what the hell is it?" He asked bluntly, using his boot to turn the figure over. Natasha frowned and pushed him away. Yes, this was a criminal, but she didn't need to be kicked around. They both blinked in silence when Natasha pushed the hood away. The files weren't kidding. She turned her head and placed a finger to her ear piece.

"We got her."


	2. Chapter 2

She never liked small, enclosed areas. She didn't remember how she got there, but she was pissed off about it either way. Anxiety shot through the veins that wound up her arms and through her fingers. The room had the color scheme of a graveyard. All greys and whites, with only a sliding glass door for a possible exit. And there wasn't even a handle on it. Shame. Must open from the outside. Stupid humans.

She willed herself to appear beyond the door, but nothing happened. After three more attempts, she noticed them. Two identical metal bracelets that dug uncomfortably into the flesh of her wrists, small hooks latched into her red skin. A thin chain connected the two bracelets. Handcuffs. Must be power dampeners, she thought. Cute. She flexed her hands to rid them of the numbness. She perched atop the metal cot that was backed into the corner farthest from the sliding door. Her captors were polite enough to cover it with a sheet, but no mattress. Sleep was for the weak, she grinned.

"Oh, the humanity of these people."

With a grunt, she moved from the cot and approached the door. Outside was a brightly lit hallway, round ceiling lights decorating it as far as she could see. It was empty but her ears pricked up at the sound of light footfalls. They were nearing her cell, each step bringing them closer. A suited man with dark shades covering his eyes stopped in front of the door, no expression on his face except for the tight-lipped frown. There was movement from his end and then the door opened.

At the hiss of the door opening, the prisoner leapt up onto the ceiling in surprise. The man kept his resolve as he stepped in, hands clasped behind his back. If he was surprised, he didn't show it. The young woman on the ceiling observed him with narrowed eyes as she scuttled sideways on the ceiling like a crab.

"M'am, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the ceiling. SHIELD has a few questions for you. My name is Agent Coulson." He spoke with an even temperament. He was well trained, she mused. But she refused to depart from the ceiling. He made no move to get her down, only stared her down. She leered and dropped down with relative ease, landing gracefully upon all fours. She would humour the man for the moment.

"Ask away, human man. I have no secrets. Only horrible truths," She sat upon the metal cot she recently departed from, her limbs crossed. He unclasped his hands from his back and gestured for her to get up. When she refused, he sighed and reached into his jacket pocket. She narrowed her eyes and braced herself, her muscles bunching and ready to pounce. She didn't trust men who reached into the jacket pockets so casually. What he removed was a mint, which he popped into his mouth.

"This is a cell, not an interrogation room. I won't be asking you questions here. Now, please. Get up."

"I don't have a choice do I?"

"No. Not at all."

"Stingy. Must be one hell of a womanizer."

"Stop talking."

Coulson pushed her in front of him, keeping a hold on the back of her shirt. They must have dressed her when she was unconscious. They were uncomfortable and itchy, the fabric abrasive against her sensitive fur. He led her through the hallway to an elevator. The doors slid open and the riders gasped at the incarcerated woman, who cheekily grinned back. She never got over the reactions of humans. Such close-minded creatures. The group of soldiers backed against the wall to distance themselves from the tailed prisoner. She swept her tail along their faces for good measure. Coulson was less than amused. He pressed some buttons and the button for the '-56th' floor lit up.

"Oh, we're going underground. Setting the mood I see, Coulson?"

"Stop talking, or I'll tase you myself."

"Charmer," She murmured. Once they arrived, he gripped her shirt and they pressed on to the interrogation chambers. From the amount of scientists and soldiers, she already gathered she was in a base of some sort. Each human she passed had the patch of an eagle with a shield in the middle. I see where they get the name from now, she thought.

Coulson finally stopped when they reached a door cleverly labeled 'Interrogation Chamber'. She imagined skeletons hanging from the ceiling, eagles (for flair) gnawing at the bones. She was sorely mistaken when her escort opened the door. A cliché image. A rectangular table with two metal chairs on each side. He pushed her down into one and seated himself on the other side. She upturned her eyes and took note of the camera in the corner. No doubt zooming in on her at this very moment.

Behind Coulson, a dark window took up the majority of the wall. She almost rolled her eyes, imagining Detective Benson busting in and asking her where the girl was. She grinned at the thought before tucking her feet under her on the chair, her chained hands resting on her calves.

"At 1430 hours on Monday, yesterday, SHIELD labeled you as a threat to human life. Do you know why, Miss Hautonga?"

"Some unfortunate soul must have called me Miss Hautonga. For future reference, I hate that name. That was my mother's name. It is not mine."

"I'll call you what is on the file."

"Your life, not mine."

"I don't take kindly to threats, and neither does SHIELD."

"Don't call me Miss Hautonga and I guarantee this 'interrogation' will go easier for you."

"We labeled you a threat at 1430 hours, because you killed an Australian diplomat and his family."

She inhaled sharply, her teeth grinding against each other in annoyance. She had assumed that's what it was to begin with, but how did these people know? She truly had no secrets.

"What you've done is punishable by death in the United States."

"Good thing I'm not American."

"As of right now, you're on American soil. Well, under it," He cocked his head as he spoke, a small smile twitching at his lips.

"Oh I've been under American soil, Agent Coulson. Very different from what you and your people imagine it to be," She returned his smile with her own, taking mind to keep her teeth visible. Not even the sight of her fangs unnerved him. Bastard. Her smile dropped and she leaned back in her seat, looking down her nose at him.

"Director Fury, however, doesn't want you dead. He finds you…remarkable. SHIELD has a habit of collecting remarkable people."

"Is his plan to paint my face, dress me in rainbows and sunshine, and have me parade in front of the public on top of elephants? Or would he prefer me to swing from bar to bar like a god damn monkey!" Her anger rose. First, she was presented with a death sentence, now this man is telling her that this Fury asshole wants to collect her. Her appearance had made her twenty three years of life…well, hell. She had years of pent up fury towards people who collected others. Her fists clenched.

"We know what you are. We know more than you think we do. Your 'name' and what you did to the diplomat only skims the surface of what we know about you. That information could be used against you for years. Don't blow me off when I say we don't take kindly to threats. How do you handle threats, **Belial**?"

They knew her name. Not her birth name, but her inherited name. Her blood name. The name her father gave her. She froze up, her eyes widening. Coulson said nothing else and stood up, making his way around the table. With a rough hand, he pulled her up from the chair and led her from the room once more. She was silent as they re-entered the elevator from earlier. Her heart hammered in her chest. She was unnerved by a human man. Blasphemy. Her tail whipped violently behind her, the walls of the elevator closing in upon her. They knew too much.

When the doors opened, Coulson's gripped loosened for a moment too long. Belial dropped and struck out with her legs, surprising Coulson as he scrambled for his gun. She shot off down the hall, running on all fours. The chains were bothersome, but she could manage. She needed escape.

"Hostile is on the move. Use force and take precaution!" Coulson grunted as he pushed himself up, taking off after the mutant. This didn't need to get any uglier for any of them. With a quick press on his holster, his gun was out and he began to tail her.

Belial twisted and turned at every hallway she could find. A door with an emergency stair case caught her eye. A soldier stood blocking the way, his gun aimed at her. She roared and slid underneath his spread legs. Using her momentum, she pushed off the door with her feet and threw her body back. Her hands grabbed the soldier's shoulders and tossed him back down the hallway like a ragdoll, her body twisting in the air and landing roughly. She kicked open the door, and ran up the metal stairs like a bat out of hell. The top of the stairs came quickly to her, muscles working in overdrive. The door opened easily and the floor was relatively empty. It should have been strange for her, but she ignored her gut instinct for the chance at freedom. She must have been on the lobby floor for by the power of Gray Skull, there were windows. She picked up her speed and gave a laugh of triumph

"Rogers!" She turned her head back briefly to see Coulson sprinting after her, only to turn back right into what felt like a brick wall. Belial fell back and her skull bounced off the floor like a tennis ball. Her head spun and the chirping birds around her head sang her a lullaby.

AN: Hello! Here's Chapter 1. I'll probably edit it later on down the road, but let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Steve Rogers thought he was seeing a ghost when he turned to see what ran into him. The vibrations from the hit still rang through the shield strapped to his back. What lay unconscious on the grey tiled floor startled him out of his wits. Instant flashes of Red Skull came alive in front of his eyes, but he regained his composure long enough to realize that it wasn't the Nazi on the ground. The creature on the ground was feminine, Steve gathered as he looked it over. She was no Peggy, he sighed. Where Peggy had been all curves, this female was lean. No one could ever look like Peggy.

Steve knelt down as Coulson approached, his hand grasping the unconscious creatures wrist. What he had suspected to be red skin was actually extremely short fur that was surprisingly soft to touch, he noted. Black markings peeked out from where the short sleeves of her shirt stopped. Intricate spirals and curves reached down her upper arms, stopping just past the elbow. He rubbed his finger in the opposite direction of the fur, finding the markings to be a part of the coloring. Interesting, he mused. Like a tiger.

"Hostile is down. All clear. I'm bringing her back," Coulson spoke as he watched Steve grabbed Belial's tail, lifting it and dropping it repeatedly. Tugging it to see if it was real. Captain Steve Roger's may have been a hero, Coulson's hero, but he sure didn't see much past what he saw with his own two eyes. He couldn't blame the soldier. Even though Coulson himself had witnessed demigods, rage monsters, and the like, a mutant was new to him. And with the furred woman on the ground being his first, he sure had a lot to get used to.

"What is she?" Steve asked, wonder in his voice. At the moment, he was fascinated with her pointed tail. He tugged on the end of it, waved it around, and then promptly dropped it once he realized what he was doing. Coulson seemed reluctant to answer at first, the way he stayed silent for a few brief moments, but he finally spoke.

"She's what Fury calls a mutant. Homo superior. She was born like this. They're basically a more evolved version of humans. This one is a little more…superior however," Coulson swelled his chest in pride. He had only learned this information recently, but he repeated it like a pro. Steve looked truly enthralled with the information. The captain looked back at the unconscious mutant. Pointy, no doubt sharp, fangs snuck out over her full bottom lip. Even in her current state, she looked threatening.

He was there when she woke up, staring at her like he expected her to do something fantastical. She considered yelling, but her aching skull disagreed with her as soon as she pulled herself upright. She quirked a brow at the man who sat outside her cell door, hunched over in his seat with his hands steepled and elbows propped on his knees. Belial cracked her spine as she sat up, sighing in pleasure when her muscles rippled. The man outside her door kept his steely blue eyes on her.

"Hello, ma'am," He spoke first, his voice soft and unwary. She eyed him curiously, running her three-fingered hand through her thick and loose hair. It was knotted from lack of care. Hard to find a brush when you're constantly being hunted.

"Does my appearance unsettle you?" She snapped, voice harsh and bitter.

"No, I'm just not used to talking to-"

"People like me? Freaks?" She cut him off, approaching the glass door that separated them from each other.

"Women. I'm not used to talking to women." He answered, voice not wavering this time. She turned her head up at him, observing him with hooded eyes. Belial crept forward and crouched in front of the door to get on his level. She found his word choice odd. How was this man not used to talking to women? With his broad shoulders, smooth skin, and perfect hair…She laughed aloud at him and this made him frown. She stopped mid-laugh, clearing her throat in a petty attempt to cover the laughter. Wait, he also had called her a woman. Not a creature, demon, or a fiend. He called her a woman. She warmed at the thought, but quickly submerged it.

"I'm not used to being called a woman."

"I can tell you're a woman, ma'am. Your…uh…features are too delicate to be considered a man." Steve smiled somewhat, hoping the woman would lighten up to him. It worked.

"Your point has been proven, Sir…" She paused, reeling for a name. He caught on.

"Steve, my name is Steve. Steve Rogers. I'm kinda the one who knocked you out." He said sheepishly, sitting up and running a shaky hand through his hair as he looked away. Her face darkened.

"So, you're the reason I'm back here."

"Not necessarily me, but more of my shield's fault." He said truthfully, meeting her eyes again. Her irises were a light blue, almost white color with a regular pupil in their centers. The color stood out harshly against her black sclera. He spoke up again.

"If you don't mind me asking…but why are you in there in the first place?" He spoke cautiously, watching her face for a reaction.

"I killed some people. A man and his family."

He didn't expect her to be so forward, but he knew she wasn't lying. Steve had a gut feeling this woman was the most honest individual in this building. He would never say that out loud, especially with the way this place was monitored.

"Why?" He questioned, genuinely curious. The way she admitted it so outright, with no guilt in her voice, made him wonder.

"They…They liked to oppress people. That were different. People like me. You could say they were bullies. So I did what anyone would have done. I grew a pair and rose against them. With a blade and fire."

**Bullies. **The word struck a chord in him. Memories of being throttled outside of the cinema countless times came back to him. Being beat up outside the diner, in the back alley, anywhere really. He tightened his jaw as she spoke. He never did care for bullies. They hardly ever agreed. They were bullies in the war. He opposed bullies like nothing else.

"Yeah, I know what that's like." He mumbled, eyes moving down in thought. When he looked back up, she was glaring at him.

"A man like you? Bullied? With your human skin, human eyes…" She trailed off, standing and turning away from the door. He furrowed his brow at her behavior. She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, her arms crossed over her chest. She didn't make a comment about his size. She commented on his skin of all things.

"Did you kill them?"

He was taken aback by her question. He was a soldier. Yes, he had killed people. But he wasn't proud of it. He didn't carry their teeth or eyes as a trophy. He carried the weight of the light leaving their eyes, and that light gathered in his restless dreams. He frowned, eyes closing at the thought.

"I was in the army. Fighting a war against the biggest bully I'd ever seen." His voice softened as he spoke. He remembered the army grays and greens. The uniforms of the Allied Forces and Axis Powers alike. She turned back to face him at this point, eyes on him as he spoke.

"A lot of lives were lost. Heroes…and bullies." He didn't know why he so open about this, to her of all people. But it was a good feeling, just talking to someone. He stopped himself before he spoke anymore.

"I should go. I've been here too long. It was…good talking to you ma'am," He stood as he spoke, lifting the steel chair he had been sitting in with ease. Her fingers itched at her shackles as he moved away from the door. Steve was already walking away when she finally spoke again.

"My name is Belial, Steve-O," She called out to him, humor in her voice.

"Like the fallen angel?" He answered back to her, head turned over his shoulder.

"One and the same, Mr. Rogers."

Belial finally moved from her position once she heard Steve get in the elevator. She sighed and slumped down onto her knees, sitting back on her arched heels. She didn't expect a conversation to be so exhausting, but Steve didn't seem false in his questions and answers. A real gentleman. Belial scoffed, looking at her hands. The three digits wiggled back at her. She clenched and unclenched them, watching the fur move over her hands. She had inherited her father's physiology for the most part. Her father, however, had five fingers. Lucky shit. She had three fingers, two toes on arched feet, and an unbreakable spine. From what her father told her in her yearly summons, she wasn't the first to inherit such an odd body structure. Another shared it. A nameless brother.

She thought of him as she showered in the SHIELD provided shower. It was more like a tiled corner of the room with a shower head that never reached above lukewarm, but it was a shower nonetheless. (Her nifty power-inhibiting bracelets were conveniently waterproof). Her nameless half-brother shared more than physical similarities, she had heard. They shared the bond of teleportation, but she had never seen him to test that theory. She didn't even know the majority of her brethren. Her father, to put it kindly, got around. He was a demon. They all were. Demonic mutants, Neyaphem they were called. Azazel told her this when she came of age. Apparently her mother dying when she was at the age of five was an event worthy of a coming-of-age ceremony.

Belial thought of her mother next. She didn't even remember her face. What she had of her mother were the black markings along her spine, arms, and belly. Along with her mother's useful invulnerability to fire. Her mother, a Maori woman with the gift of flame, had been born with the Maori markings already a part of her skin. Along with the scales and spines, but thankfully Belial hadn't inherited _those. _Those surely wouldn't have helped her case. Her fur and tail were enough already.

She rinsed her hair, letting the thick black waves cascade down her bare back. The last person to cross her mind as she dried herself was the soldier with the blue eyes and kind smile. She frowned at the thought. He was human. Like the ones who enslaved her. The ones she knew never had good intentions. Was he any different? She threw her question out to the wind as she lay upon the sorry bed frame, the metal cross bars digging into her shoulders and back. After a few moments of calm silence, she settled into her restless dreams.

A/N: I forgot to mention, but this story starts like a week or so before The Avengers plot begins. I know the whole Coulson meeting Steve beforehand is different, but no worries. Coulson hasn't 'officially' met Steve yet. This was a chapter hopefully to give you a better feel for Belial. Please leave a review and let me know what you love, hate, want to see in the future, etc. It means a lot to me.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Wellington, New Zealand. 1999.**_

"_This isn't a good idea," His voice was quiet and rough next to Belial, his Maori words thick with concern. Kiwi, her only friend, was towering over her. His bulky frame overshadowed her as they crouched in an alley outside the bays docks. She looked up at him and frowned. He was too damn tall and large for his age of fourteen, she thought. Fog and rain rolled over Wellington, making her idea sound that much better. They were going to leave Wellington that night, go to Australia. From there? They had the world to explore. All they needed was a ship._

_Through word of mouth, Belial had picked up that an Australian diplomat and his family had been residing in Wellington, set to depart today back to Australia. In typical political gallantry, their ship was large with many decks. Easy enough to stow away on. That's precisely what the Neyaphem had in mind. They had been hiding the majority of the day, keeping an eye on the docks movements. Waiting for the best moment._

"_Oi, Kiwi. You see that idiot in the straw hat? He's our ticket out of here. They're leaving at night so there won't be reporters hawking them the whole time," Belial grinned, biting at her lip in anticipation. She watched the family move to their ship. Mother and father with their twin daughters, small dog in tow. Men in suits followed flanked their sides, no doubt their security._

_From their position, Belial didn't have a clear landing zone. See, with her mutation, she had to see where she was going and where exactly her feet would be touching the ground. She could barely see the deck of the ship from they were positioned outside the dock. They had to get up higher and it had to be perfect shot, or else she wouldn't have enough juice to get them on the ship. Kiwi was a heavy load to carry in between teleportations and it strained her. She spotted a building across from them with a high enough vantage point for them to see. Without wasting time, she quickly took the two of them up top._

_The ship was a modest size cruise, but far too large for the political family. Belial saw the deck floor of the recreation deck, a pingpong table sticking out with its bright green coloring. Perfect. Kiwi had no time to object before she teleported them over there as well. Their combined weight was too much, easily crashing through the flimsy wood of the table. Kiwi held her protectively on top of him and he grunted as she scrambled off of him, proceeding to prance around the deck in all her red glory. He moved to the railing, careful not to hang over too much as the ship began to move._

_Kiwi Black watched as his friend bounced around the deck, all smiles and optimism. He on the other hand was all frowns and skepticism. They were an unlikely duo who happened to collide. He was grateful for the bouncy little demon. She had saved him from an untimely fate and they had been inseparable ever since. Like an older brother to his younger sister. He could only wonder how long that would last._

_She should have known that their crash landing would draw attention, but she blocked it out in her moment of triumph so the first shot startled her out of her reverie. Kiwi's grunt of pain as he held a bleeding shoulder sent Belial into a fit. She yelled, charging the suited man who stood in the decks doorway, gun trained on her. He was shaking ungracefully, startled out of his mind by the devil running at him to the point that he missed his next shot, hitting the ceiling. Belial wrapped her hands around the gunner's head, pushing her thumbs into his eye sockets until blood began to leak and she knew she had killed him._

_Kiwi knelt upon the deck, using his hands to pull the bullet from his skin. It dropped to the deck with a 'ping', more blood oozing from the wound down his tattooed arms. Belial moved over to him, crouching down and touching the bullet hole. He looked at her with such an intensity that she didn't even have to ask, because she knew what he would say. They needed to leave and now, but how was the question. They were trapped. All that was on either side of the ship was the sea and more security guards had to be on the way. Their only choice was to swim._

_Belial's throat tightened at the thought, her heart palpitating. She couldn't swim. The most she could do was flail and that surely wouldn't help her at all. Kiwi put his hand on her shoulder, bringing her back. Her eyes fell from his inked face in sadness._

"_I am fine, but we knew this wouldn't work. Do not blame yourself, Beli."_

_She could have cried at his voice, the steady calmness of his voice even though he had been shots moment before. They were trapped, two mutants on a human ship. And she had just killed one at the young age of ten. She crawled on top of him, his arms cradling her._

**Present Day**

Belial was never a people person, human and mutant alike. Was she a loner? You could say that. Her parentage caused mutants to stray from her whereas humans strayed from her for obvious reasons. Humans and mutants alike hate what can't be understood. A vicious cycle. With that being said, Belial didn't make very many friends in her life.

There was an exception however. A boy named Kiwi who lived in New Zealand alongside her. They both had been orphaned at a young age. Hers was in part to her mother dying. His had more to do with his mother not caring. They only had mothers, their fathers being out of the picture. Belial had met her father, but she didn't like to talk about it. Kiwi never mentioned his and would carefully avoid Belial's questions.

Kiwi was quiet, whereas she had no restraint. He was a mutant like her, with the ability to strengthen himself to impossible degrees. He hardly ever used it, refusing to harm people, while Belial mugged and stole to support them. It was simple enough with her mutation. Kiwi frowned upon the violence, but he always had a full belly at the end of the day.

She was brought out of her reminiscing by a rap on her cell door, a grimacing Coulson on the other side. Belial was surprised. She hadn't seen his cheery face in awhile. The door slid open as he tapped in the password, stepping in and approaching Belial. She sat on her cot, looking up at him with an eyebrow quirked. He grabbed her wrist gently, lifting it to where he could fit a small key into a hole in her right bracelet that even she couldn't see. The chain that held her bracelets together gave slack. She gave him an incredulous look as he took the chain from in between the two bracelets, pocketing the steel. Her hands were now free to move about.

"Mr. Fury would like to see you now. Please don't do anything stupid," Coulson said, stepping behind her and moving her forward. He took her back to where they had their first conversation, leaving her in the room by herself as he left. She was confused. Where was the big man at? The one who played the Pied Piper to these ridiculous people?

"Colonel Fury, she's in he-" A female voice spoke, military and curt in manner.

"I'd damn well hope so, or I wouldn't be here. Thank you, Agent Hill." A stern voice cut the woman off, a large man in a trench cost stepping into the room. Belial watched him sit with a perplexed look on her face. The first question that came to her mind was why did he have only one eye. He must be a pirate, she thought with a laugh. He must have a pirate ship with Coulson as his first mate, the disembodied feminine voice his wench. She snorted at the thought, earning a stern look from the man across from her.

"You know who I am?" He had a no nonsense manner to him which immediately irked Belial. He'd be no fun.

"Can I take a guess? You're…the Highlander…because there can only be one…of your eyes?" She snorted at her unbearably lame joke, not being able to restrain herself from jest. He looked less than amused.

"I'm Colonel Nick Fury of SHIELD, now wipe that stupid ass smile off your face before I shoot it off."

She obliged him, settling her face into a look of nonchalant boredom.

"Good. I didn't fly all the way out here to visit with a child. I'm sure Coulson told you of your very limited options?" He questioned, his eyebrow lifting in question. She shook her head, leaning back with her arms folded over her chest.

"Nope. Told me you like 'collecting remarkable people' and left it at that," She said, uncrossing her arms long enough to perform air quotes before folding them back.

"Good. I'll give you your options then. I can kill you here, or you can work for me. Join SHIELD." He presented both options with indifference, crossing his own arms over his thick chest.

"So I either am shot before a firing squad or I become indentured slave is what you're telling me. Let's say, hypothetically speaking, that I join your heavily armed cult of fascists. What's going to keep me from leaving when I damn well please?"

"The same as Agent Romanoff, the one who brought you here. A red ledger. Maybe you can redeem yourself. You could be useful, Belial. It would be a shame for your talents to go to waste. But, if you did leave, we would hunt you to the ends of the earth. Then, I would bring your tail back and wear it as a tie."

There was no joking in his voice. No lies either. He was dead serious. Belial frowned.

"I'd like to keep my life, but it seems that either way, my life isn't entirely mine, is it?" She leaned forward, unfolding her arms and putting them on the table. She didn't question the power of this man. He was Director and for good reason. He took no bullshit. She might just like him, if she willed herself to.

"You lost that liberty when you killed a family."

"Do you know why I killed them?"

"I wouldn't be able to call myself a spy if I didn't know. The fact you killed them doesn't bother me. It's the fact you killed them prematurely. It upset me."

Belial gaped at Fury, her eyes narrowed with uncertainty. Prematurely? He was intending to kill that family? He must have known about the mutants they kept as laborers and pets. But how? She was lost.

"See now why I don't want to put you in front of a firing squad? You're far too useful, although unorthodox in execution. Quite literally. Now then, I want you to stew over that for awhile while I go treat myself to a coffee." With that, he scooted his chair back and left her. She didn't know what to think, where to even begin.

"…Say what?"

Steve gave her a sloppy smile through the cell door, poking at the burger on his plate. Burgers weren't as good as they used to be. Back in the good ol' days, they had authentic burgers. Not this processed patty-of-nasty.

"Yeah, SHIELD isn't so bad, Belial. They have a gym and uh…stuff that covers your health? Health care? I'm about as new to this as you are…" He mumbled abashedly, taking a bite of his burger and swallowing it down. This modern stuff confused him. Belial frowned as she stabbed her plastic fork into the watery prison potatoes, spinning it around slowly. She was envious of his burger.

"Prisons have gyms, Steve," She pointed out harshly, forking potato into her mouth. She gagged as she swallowed.

"Not as nice as this one! Oh, that didn't come out right… But hey, listen Belial. SHIELD isn't the bad guy here. They've helped a lot of people. Including me."

"They got mad at me for killing their target prematurely. What part of that yells 'hey, we're really awesome guys of justice' to you?"

"…Awesome?" Steve questioned, a look of childish confusion on his face. A piece of lettuce hung from his mouth, completing the look. Belial groaned.

"Cool, good, fantastic…You know, awesome? What century are YOU from? Anyway, they weird me out," She spoke harshly as she cut into her hard Salisbury steak, fighting to cut through the burnt meat. With a sigh of defeat, she picked up the piece of meat and tore through it with her sharpened teeth. Much more effective.

"Why do they weird you out? They seem alright enough to me."

"No wonder you're America's poster boy. You'll fall for anything. They rustle my jimmies, Steve I'll leave it at that."

"Rustle your jimmies?"

Belial sighed. It was going to be a long dinner.

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this chapter, but let me know what you think! Sorry for the multiple reposts, I pointed out typos that bothered me!


	5. Chapter 5

Belial had to admit that the ceiling falling wasn't a normal morning alarm for her. The long ceiling light above her cot broke apart upon her back, startling her from her sleep. An alarm blared throughout the building.

"What the bloo-Why is the ground shaking?" She looked over the room from wall to ceiling, her body tensed. An aftershock from whatever brought the light down threw her forward, her knees dragging along the tiled floor. An earthquake? They were underground, so she didn't rule out that possibility. Yet, something seemed off about it. It felt more like a large explosion. That didn't spell out very well for her. She was stuck in a room with no way out, thanks to SHIELD's countermeasures. She scowled at the cuffs.

Alas, some heavenly creature must have heard her woes, for the walls around her cell door began to crack. The door, no longer supported, shattered. Glass dusted the floor. Belial didn't question her fortune, instead taking the opportunity to leave the quickly failing room. Another tremor rocked her, but she kept her balance. Her knees found themselves on the ground as she crouched, her fingers feeling the vibrations. The quakes were below her, sending shocks through her system. Interesting.

Her curiosity found her leaping down the stairwell, holding her body as straight as she could with her hands above her head to avoid the stair railings. She landed hard on the bottom, but her arched feet negated the shock. She pressed against the only door and was greeted with chaos. Soldiers, scientists, and agents alike bustled about like ants that had their hill stepped on and didn't know how to cope with it. Words like 'evacuation' and 'self-destruct' resounded through the structure. Must be more serious than she previously thought.

Then she saw him. Fury himself, looking rather…infuriated, at the current situation. A woman, who Belial believed to be Agent Hill, power walked beside him. They were headed in the opposite direction, away from where everyone was fleeing to. Belial furrowed her brow. Quite curious that they were headed into the heart of the complex.

The mutant slipped in between agents, stalking the colonel and his right-hand agent. Amidst the panic, the two would never notice the tailed woman following them. As the duo ascended up a flight of stairs to enter a large chamber, Belial followed them on the underside of the stairs, her fingers and toes keeping her adhered. Her ears picked up their conversation that seemingly revolved around one thing. Something powerful called the tesseract. She narrowed her eyes, watching through the stairs gaps as Agent Hill departed from Fury with two soldiers flanking her. Fury turned and entered the massive chamber, Belial waiting for him to be far enough ahead of her. She flipped over the iron railing, crawling along the floor on all fours to keep as quiet as she could.

The room was more impressive than she thought. But the light in the center drew her in. An electric blue cube pulsated with energy in the center of the room. Beautiful, Belial sighed. She was so caught up in the blue shiny that at the last second, she realized she was in Fury's field of vision. She froze like a deer in headlights, tail shooting straight up. Fury's deep set frown worried Belial. Yes, Fury was a Negative Nancy in general, but something about the look in his eye made her, of all people, feel bad for him.

"You're the last thing I want to see right now, elf."

"Glad to see you're feeling chipper this fine evening, Nicholas." Belial stood and moved towards him, ignoring the startled look of the man standing next to the cube. Erik Selvig read his crooked nametag. An annoyed archer stood next to Fury, looking less than pleased to see the furry woman. Belial winked at him, grinning at his disgusted reaction.

Fury didn't have time for a rebuttal, for the cube became more vibrant and the earth's shakes grew more rampant. Light and energy collected in the cube before a roar erupted, piercing Belial's sensitive ears. She howled, clutching at her ears and watching in awe as a beam of pure energy shot out of the cube. The beam ended in the middle of what looked like a low grade Stargate, the energy expanding. A galaxy was revealed, the stars winking at the group in the room. This didn't last long before another boom cracked, energy enveloping the room and creeping up the walls. As quick as it happened, the energy trickled back to the platform.

No one said a word, not even Belial. A figure stood in the center, crouched and breathing heavily. Almost like he was injured. Shaking herself from her astonishment, Belial stepped forward to make a possible inspection. Fury stopped her with a hand on her arm, pulling her back. She gave him a puzzled look, seeing that he was handing her something. Looking into the palm of the hand not holding her, she gave a small smile. A small chip. Her freedom.

Fury did her the honor of unlocking the cuffs, letting them fall to the floor. She didn't question Fury, for she was certain he had his reasons. As the cuffs chinked upon the floor, Belial promptly 'bamfed' to be closer to the figure in the center of the platform. She eyed him cautiously, watching as he stood to his full height. He looked like he had been recently thawed out, his skin clammy and vein-y. Belial met his emerald eyes. He looked at her with recognition, something that should have been impossible. A horrible grin stretched onto his impish face that rustled Belial.

His clothing looked not of this world. More from a myth if anything. Inky locks fell into his damp face, giving him the appearance of a beast. Complicated armor of green and gold complimented his attributes well. Belial scoffed, angry that she even let that cross her mind. A javelin, or perhaps a spear, was clutched tightly in his pale hand.

Belial narrowed her eyes and creased her brow, wondering why this man ran his eyes over her like a familiar. He finally spoke, his voice sounding old, yet ageless all at once. Horrifyingly elegant.

"You look so much like your father, Belial. However, your presence is obtrusive at this moment."

Her heart stopped. How did this…spaceman know her father? Azazel didn't get out of Hell much and that increased the peculiarity of the man's words. The strange man received the reaction he wanted, using Belial's own confusion against her. He struck out with his spear, a bolt of energy striking her straight in the chest. The power of the bolt launched her back, sending her tumbling over the Director and his fellow scientists. Her back struck the far wall, followed by her skull. No one came rushing to her side, too taken with the spear-wielding asshole that took out soldiers without so much batting an eyelash.

She heaved against the wall, trying to keep her head from spinning. She hadn't been hit like that in years. A smile fought itself onto her face at the challenge. She blocked out the stranger's monologue, rising on unsteady legs. Turning her head to the side, she groaned as her neck popped. This guy had an entire seven layers on hell coming his way.

A gunshot rung out and Belial choked back a gasp of surprise. Agent Bad-Aim had just shot at his own Director, all while standing buddy-buddy with the one who called himself Loki. She had caught that much in her temporary concussion. What the fuck was going on, she thought to herself. She watched as the spearwielder and his minions fled the room before realizing that hey, this man knows her father. Dropping to all fours, she took off after them. With her speed, she would catch up in no time.

Fate had a different idea. Her advance was halted by rough hand grabbing her tail without care, snapping her back. She cried out in pain, looking back in horror. Her powers weren't working. That only meant one thing. Red eyes looked at her in amusement, a sly grin crossing a painfully familiar face. She fought the urge the stab the hand, knowing that would increase her punishment tenfold. The clawed hand increased its grip, sending jolts of pain through her body. Belial hissed, hands scrabbling to get away. There was only one man she feared in all of the collective universes and here he was, holding her tail like a torturous leash.

"Kia ora, daughter of mine. I've missed you." He smiled the most grotesque of smiles before teleporting the two of them away, leaving behind a baffled Fury.

break

A/N: I apologize for the long wait. Finals, Diablo 3, work, etc. Again, I feel iffy with this chapter. But I have big plans for this story. I promise, the next chapter will be like three times longer than this. As always, let me know how you feel about the story. I love reading all your reviews and seeing all the love this story gets. It really motivates me to right. Also, for grins, I'll be posting a link to my tumblr up on my profile in case any of you are interested. So please follow me and remind me to update. I love you all.


	6. Chapter 6

**New Zealand, 1994**

_She was confused as to how this happened. Her mother kept them generally away from the villagers. Secluded and safe from prying eyes. The villagers did however know of their presence and regarded her mother as the reincarnation of Ruaumoko, the god of volcanoes and earthquakes. They worshipped her mother as though she were a god and Mahuika her destined child. Her mother, Ani, told her child to disregard their lies. They were fools. Her child was normal. They were normal. Everything would be fine._

_But why then, was her mother bleeding and still? She had never seen so much blood in her young life. And here it was, flowing endlessly from a gaping hole in her mother's abdomen. Her mother's chest no longer rose with the breath of life. Mahuika, in her childish curiosity, pulled the jagged blade from Ani's flesh. Ignoring the sucking sound of the torn flesh releasing the dagger, she inspected the blade in her inhuman hands. Raising it to her nose, she sniffed at the handle. Who was she kidding? She was no bloodhound._

_Throwing the dagger to the dirt, she crouched next to her deceased mother. She didn't know what to do. Her mother had done everything for Mahuika. Taught her to build fires, hunt wild, and to tame her own beast nature. Now her mother was dead. Killed by those who believed her to be a god. They tested her rumored immortality and found her mortal. Would they come after her child next? Mahuika shuddered at the thought. _

_The breaking of branches and the rustling of leaves startled her from her melancholy thoughts, a light-stepping figure approaching her. Scrabbling for the dagger in the dirt, she crouched low over her mother's figure like a wild beast. She held the dagger in her hand, teeth bared to present a threat. She would protect her mother's body. There would be no desecration of the dead in this place. _

_What approached her was no man, but a replication of her own semblance. He was a tall man, slim and oddly dressed. Black leather wound tight around his body, dirty white fur draped over his shoulders. His chest was bare and a collection of bones hung around his neck. Like her, his skin was red and his hair jet black. Red eyes glimmered at her, a pleasant smile on his face that set Mahuika on edge. He stepped a few steps in front of her, looking at her bestial stance with profound amusement. He found her entertaining. This ragged child was threatening him. A bloom of pride blossomed in his chest._

_He transposed his gaze from the small girl to her mother. He reached a clawed hand and moved to brush her hair from her face, but Mahuika struck at him with the dagger. A thin whip swatted the dagger from her hand, the muscles locking up. The whip was instead proven to be a tail that waved at her in a deriding manner. She stayed put over her mother's body, white-blue eyes burning into the man. Red optics moved from the dead to the alive and breathing, burning into Mahuika once again._

"_Are you the god of death?" Mahuika found her voice and it left her, small but large in courage._

"_God of death? You never cease to amuse me, child."_

"_I have a name! My name is Mahuika. My mother named me."_

"_Oh, did she now?" He cooed at her, balancing on his toes as he continued to regard her with amusement. She growled, eyes fixed into a seething glare and stayed quiet._

"_What did dear Ani tell you of your father, Mahuika?" He spoke her mother's name with disdain._

"_She told me to never ask. He must not have been an honorable man."_

"_My honor didn't matter to her five years ago, did it?" He grinned at her, sharp teeth and all._

"_He had no- What?" Mahuika cocked her head, not knowing if she had heard him right. Had he just referred to…?_

"_Surprised? I had a feeling she wouldn't speak of me. Charming woman. But come now, this isn't the place and my visits to this realm are tiresome." Without warning, he gripped her with a strong hand and teleported them away. In a cloud of brimstone and smoke, he brought them to his realm. His home; Brimstone. Malformed creatures flew above them, screams of the damned echoing around Mahuika. She cowered at the sights around her. They were unreal._

_The man who still held her shoulder smirked, moving her toward a throne made of bones and dry lava. Smoke rose from the demon throne, waiting for its owner to retake his place. Her lookalike released he shoulder, easing into the throne with a man's dominance. She turned away from him and darted her eyes about in fear. Malformed beings approached them cautiously, disgustingly gaunt with horns rising from their head and batwings protruding from their hunched backs._

_The man on the throne waved them away and they crawled away. Mahuika turned back to the man, uncertain of what to do. He took care of that for her, his voice low and bored._

"_Isn't this better? Welcome to my home, Mah- Damn your mother for naming you that. She kept your true name from you, you know that?"_

"_My name __**IS**__ M-Mahuika." She spoke against him, her childish defiance getting the better of her. He bristled at this._

"_IT IS NOT. A father should have a part in the naming of his child, and I shall. Erase this Mahuika, child. You are Belial. My child. My," he gestured to himself, "blood runs through your veins."_

_Mahuika furrowed her brow, looking down at her two-toed feet and clenched her fists. She said nothing._

"_Feel honored, young Belial. Having the blood of Azazel is an honor. The blood of the cursed Neyaphem. It's your birthright. You'll have to learn to accept it. Embrace it or lest I destroy you now. But that would be a shame with the way you turned out. You're almost perfect."_

**Brimstone, Modern Day**

Belial remembered the way he spoke of her as an experiment. A concoction of two chemicals being tossed together. That was years ago, but here they were again. He on his throne and she standing before him. He looked the same as he did the first day she met him. The same cocky smirk, the same air of arrogance radiating from his being. The collection of bones on his neck seemed to have grown, she noted with a grimace.

"That was rude of me, grabbing your tail like that. But I had to get your attention somehow, my child."

"A letter would have sufficed. How did that man come to know of me?" She crossed her arms over her chest, hardening her eyes as she looked at her father.

"Always to the point. I gave him word of you when he and I met. He's called Loki. The Trickster God. Lord of Lies."

"Sounds like Satan. You know, the title you lost to what's his name."

Her rebuttal was met with a piercing pain in her head that brought her to her knees, a scream escaping her throat. Her father was a part of all his children, thus he had control. He could destroy her in milliseconds. Once he found her screams satisfactory, he halted his mental hold on her brain. She sighed in relief and sat back on her heels.

"His accursed name is Mephisto and you'll do well not to speak of him. Or I'll wear your trachea like a trophy."

"Add it to your collection." She mumbled, doing everything to not look at him.

"It would do me no good to kill you after I have promised you to another. A dead bride would be rude, don't you think?"

She snapped her eyes back to him and bile rose up in her throat. Promised her to another? Bride? She knew her demonic father was insane, but this was absurd. Not hearing from him in years, not that she entirely minded that, but here he is making absurd claims.

"W-What are you talking about?"

"This Loki is an ambitious fool. He made a bargain with a power higher than him and he fears it will end badly. Being the ever gracious man I am, I offered him my services."

As he spoke, slave Neyaphem took a hold of Belial and removed her of the SHIELD prison garments, instead dressing her in something appropriate and more befitting. Black leather that gripped her legs like a vice and wrapped around her feet. A tight-fitting leather shirt clung to her chest, leaving her midriff bare along with her arms. She was the spitting image of her father now, dirty white fur draping her shoulders and all. A fact that made her cringe. She shoved the workers away with annoyance, but almost instantly felt a twang of guilt in her heart. They were trapped in the same cage as her.

"He plans to take over the human realm with the use of the Tesseract. He wants to rule them. That's where his ambition turns ridiculous. I made a pact with him, my dear, which involved you. I aid him in his crusade, he gets his realm, and my child keeps their eye on them. Your children will be powerful, Belial. He is a god and you are Neyaphem. I am proud of how you turned out, Belial, so it's only fitting I offer him my prized child to rule alongside him."

"I understand that you still live with medieval ideals, father, but this is horrible. The man ATTACKED me and now you lay it on me, as casual as you can be, that I am to marry him? What if I refuse?"

"If you refuse, I'll tear your veins from your body, as slow and as carefully as I can. Keeping your life stable long enough to watch your friend die. What was his name again, my dear? Steve?"

She locked up at the mention of the captain, her fists clenched in fury. She fell silent and hung her head, feeling the horrid weight of her father's decision bear down on her.

"Do you hear me? I have no issue killing my own blood, Belial. I can always make more of you. But your children will be the key to my success, to my freedom. Then, I will kill Loki and Earth will be mine. You just need to bear his children, my grandchildren." He sighed in content at the idea, lounging back in his chair like he already made claim to Earth.

The harsh truth of his words severed her. She knew that he could kill her at any given moment, a fear she had lived with all her life. . Her father was a madman, she knew this, but a powerful madman that held her life over a empty chasm. Threatening to drop her whenever he so chooses. Now, the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Like Atlas, the world would give her no leeway, nor would her father.

"However, I will let your charade with the humans continue. It amuses me. But remember what you are Belial, because I assure you that I will never forget." He waved her away and the world fell away from her.

Her form reappeared in the middle of what seemed like an intense discussion between the Colonel, Steve, the red-haired woman she vaguely remembered, and a spectacled man who looked more interested in her than confused. Steve look both startled and relieved to see her. He met her eyes with confusion, no doubt about her new fashion combination of leather and fur. Fury regarded her with a narrowed eye that blazed with questioning.

Belial took the time to realize where she was. One, she was in an aircraft of some sort with the way the clouds loomed outside the large windows at the front of the craft. Two, every single pair of eyes were on her. The room was silent. A pen dropped and a man coughed. She moved to stand next to Steve's seated form, the fur around her shoulder rustling with her movement. Steve's face reddened at the close proximity of her bare midriff to his face and he gulped down his anxiety. The spectacled man regarded Steve with a small knowing smile.

"Back to work, ladies and gentleman." At the sound of Fury, everyone snapped back to attention and went back to work. They continued to steal glances at Belial, but she ignored them. Natasha watched her every movement, her face dark with skepticism. Belial felt that the woman didn't trust her, but she couldn't blame her. None of them could. But they wouldn't understand her burden. Belial inwardly sighed.

"And here I thought we'd never see you again, Belial. Decided to take up my offer?" The colonel stared her down, arms folded behind his back as he waited for her to answer. In a matter of days, she had been offered things that ended in her imminent death if she refused. A frown settled deep into her face.

"I wouldn't be here if I said no, cap'n." She answered him and noticed that Steve noticeably perked up. Poor fool. Belial fought to keep her inner angst from revealing itself in her vivid eyes. With a bored sigh, she crossed her arms over her chest. She turned her head as the red-headed agent spoke up.

"I normally wouldn't question your judgement, sir, but now I have to. She can't be trusted. She tried to kill Barton and myself, not to mention the others she has killed. She vanished during Loki's initial attack, only to reappear back here dressed to kill? I don't like this. You can't just put the trust of SHIELD in her hands."

"When Loki attacked, Agent Romanoff, Belial was the first to approach him. Unless I missed the handshake between the two, I don't see a current reason for her to be out of my trust range. She has a debt to me, and she's here to pay it off. Am I right or am I wrong, mutant?" Fury turned from Natasha to look to Belial who leered at Natasha. The agents caution could be her undoing.

"You would be correct. Something about red ledgers, dead politicians, etcetera. I could have killed you if I wanted, agent. **You're** only human. But alas! My restraint, my commendable restraint, kept me from doing such a thing. Along with a trick arrow in the shoulder." Belial bit out, taking pride in seeing the other woman tense up in anger. Steve, not liking confrontation, tried to sink his large body into his seat in hopes of getting away from the hostilities. The spectacled man looked overly amused with the situation, sitting back in his chair like he was at a film. Belial, growing tired of the silence, spoke once again.

"I'm here to fulfill a debt and I don't leave those unpaid…nor do I break my promises…" She spoke the last part quietly, to herself. This would be harder than she thought.

"Now then, back to where I was. Loki…" Fury started once more, filling Belial in on everything she already knew.

A/N: Woo, I liked writing Azazel. More of him to come. Leave me your thoughts!


	7. Chapter 7

Steve kept close to Belial as Fury spoke, feeling less apprehensive on being aboard the flying ship. They may have only known each other during Belial's short incarceration period, but the super soldier felt more at ease with her presence. He didn't know Banner. He didn't know the Widow. But he did know the frowning mutant next to him. He relaxed in his seat, making small glances at the crimson furred woman next to him.

He noticed that whenever Fury spoke Loki's name, Belial would clench her fists and harden her eyes. She almost had that look of a jilted woman, but he could just be reading her wrong. She stayed uncharacteristically quiet through Fury's shpeel, only listening and never rebutting. Steve furrowed his brow. She never went without a remark.

As he led her to a spare room aboard the helicarrier, he thought of what to ask and how to ask. Belial trudged beside him, shoulders low and eyes on the floor. He frowned. Pressing the button to slide open the door, she stepped in without interest. She didn't even comment on the bed that was instantly an upgrade from what she had in the underground prison. Now Steve was really concerned.

"Bel, what's wrong?

His voice startled her out of whatever haze she had been in, her eyes burning into him as she looked up. He dragged a chair over to the bed she settled herself upon, the white fur from her outfit rustling. Steve dropped himself into the chair, hunching forward and digging his elbows into his knees.

"Uh. Family issues, Steve. That's all."

"Saying that I understood probably wouldn't be the best, seeing as how I don't have really have a family anymore." He skirted around outright saying he was decades older than her and his family might be long gone by now. He might have been the sole Rogers left. She, Belial, knew of his Captain America image, but not just how long he had been Captain America.

"I envy you." She replied, looking down to the floor. Her voice took on a dark tone and Steve could feel the resentment radiating from her flesh. Who in her family upset her this much, he wondered. Where he came from, families stuck together until the ends of the earth and then some. She spoke up again.

"Steve, can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Belial."

"What's your father like?"

"He drank a lot, even for an Irishman, but he was a good father. A strong man who I wanted to be like. He and my mother came from Ireland, so he had to muscle through a lot."

"So he treated you good. Did you love him? If he asked you the impossible, could you do it for him?" She picked her head up, voice taking more of an edge and anger flashed in her colored eyes. Steve felt taken aback. What was she getting at?

"He was my father, of course I loved him. He named me and I woulda done anything for him. Why you asking?"

Belial looked over his face. His sweet face that made her sick. He was too good of a man. Too beautiful of a man. America's shining beacon. He kept his eyes on her, those blue eyes that made her days better when he came to her in her cell. No wonder her father threatened his life. Azazel felt the way Belial warmed at the site of the soldier, how happy he made her. Her father would do anything to rip that happiness from her. The soldier would interfere with his the plans he laid out for his daughter. Belial's stomach tightened. She hadn't felt sadness in quite a long time.

Steve noticed the depression in her eyes, for he got up from the chair and sat himself beside her on the bed. He warily put an arm across her shoulders and he almost retracted it as she flinched. He knew that look though. That look in her eyes that called to him, begged him to be there. She was hurting and she needed some pain relief. He didn't know what pained her, but he did know that he'd kick the teeth in of whatever it was.

It took her awhile, but Belial finally eased into his awkward embrace. She rested her head on his bulky shoulder, the muscles moving under the light weight of her head. He swallowed to clear the nervous blockage in his throat. She smelt like a fireplace where blossoms burned. A heady scent that warmed him.

Her nose picked up his clean, masculine scent. He reminded her of a lost era. An era where romance was love, not a night spent together among strangers. Her heart hurt at the smell. He was making this hard for her, whether he knew it or not. She should have turned him away. He was human after all, but she couldn't bring herself to make him leave. She didn't want to see the offense on his face that surely would have happened. So she stayed silent and leaned into him, his arm protectively and supportively around her. She felt small in his arms, the width of his biceps easily larger than two of her arms put together. An elf in the arms of a gentle giant.

They stayed that way for awhile before Belial finally roused from her false sense of security. Steve wished her a good night and sweet dreams as he left, his smile warming her for just a moment. Then he was gone, taking her heart with him. She listened to his footsteps as he left, waiting until he was gone. She got up off the bed, moving over toward the light switch. She punched it, sparks flying from the switch before the lights shut off. The shadows melded over her, the small lights in the outside hallway giving off small rays of light. She was back to being alone.

She tore off the leather that confined her, tossing the offending garments on the floor. Her father's clothes. Her throat tightened with anxiety. Thinking of her father and the injustice he had placed upon her filled her with the urge to heave. Which she found herself doing. Stark naked, she ran to the small bathroom and emptied what little she had in her stomach. She knelt before the toilet, her hair sweaty and long down her back. Her skin tingled. She almost wanted to cry, but she wouldn't. That would satisfy her father too much.

She crawled back into the main part of her room, pulling herself onto the bed. Her body sunk into the mattress, but sleep evaded her. She found herself looking into the shadows, imagining what creatures could be creeping in there. The fact that she knew what creatures lived among shadows made a sarcastic smile cross her face. But when the shadows began to twist and take shape, she questioned her sanity. The darkness became a form, a shape in her room. A tall form and a vaguely familiar form. She bit her tongue, sitting up on her bed and holding the sheets to cover her body.

"You are far too familiar with the soldier, Belial. It hurts me." The voice sent a shiver through her spine and filled her heart with cold anger. She knew that voice. That voice sent her hurtling across a room.

"You don't have authority over who I'm familiar with, you bastard." She hissed at the fully formed shadow. He wouldn't appear physically to her. He wouldn't risk it, the coward. So he projected himself in the shadows, the darkness taking his likeness. She felt exposed, knowing that her _beloved_ watched her. A growl rose in her throat.

"Not yet. Your father has seen to it that I soon shall." He responded with a laugh, the shadow form stepping towards her silently. She stuck her chin up at him in defiance before turning her head away, her gaze burning into the wall. She wouldn't grace him with her face.

The shadow hand went to her face and she thought she could feel the cold fingers upon her jaw, thin yet strong. She stayed silent as he touched her face. She could imagine him seething, not being there in his physical form.

"That mortal does not deserve to look upon you as he does, Belial. You are so much more than they believe you to be. You are a different entity entirely. You shall make a dark and beautiful queen." His words coiled around her, gripping her like a snake. Shadows fell away and he was gone, leaving her alone once more. Ragged breaths left her, chest heaving. What could she do? This man…no…this god held more power than she could imagine. Shadows fell to his whim. She would have to tread carefully.

A/N: Sorry for the shortness, but this was a small look into the conflicting relationships this story will have. And I'm horribly sorry for any typos. I have no BETA. Please review and let me know what you think!


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